The Intimate
by myInfirmary
Summary: 3 times, 3 people witness Ichabod and Abbie being intimate. And 1 time, that Abbie was there for Ichabod. The summary might give you the wrong idea, plus I was advised not to post this, so yes...There's no sex or anything, it's just silly really.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first chapter I wrote, and so I didn't have much really to go on. It's really bad, I honestly think so, but anyway, I did it, so aqui esta. For this part, Ichabod has no name, because in the head of my Luke, he doesn't have a name.**

'Abbie?' Luke Morales calls out to the female police officer who just strode past him with the tall peculiar man he doesn't like at all to think about. Both she and the man stop walking, turning exactly the same way and at the same pace as the other. Just as he expected, Abbie only looks at him expectantly, not saying a word. She doesn't cross her arms, at least that's different than he's used to.

'So what,' Luke takes steps forward to her (not to them, because he doesn't have anything to talk to the other man about) 'we're not saying 'Hi' to each other anymore?' He adores the look of impatience that Abbie puts on when she really doesn't have it in her schedule to be distracted. Luke wonders if she knows just how gorgeous she really is. He's never told her, not exactly, so maybe she doesn't.

'Hi Luke,' she greets him with a hint of wryness, her eyes turning in the opposite direction. Another thing he loves about Abbie, the way her eyes darted around when she spoke, he always found it interesting, because eye contact isn't a problem for her, yet, she chooses to keep her eyes aware of other things too.

Despite her attitude towards him in this moment, Luke smiles in warmth, 'Hi Abbie.' She always did a have a way of getting him to do things without trying.

'We've said 'Hi', goodbye Luke,' Abbie says seriously. She looks at the man beside her, and he makes a small facial expression that Luke cannot read. It irritates Luke that the man is always around Abbie, and much more now that apparently, he and Abbie can communicate without using words. They begin walking away from him.

'Hey, Abbie!' he realises they're not before him anymore.

'What?' Abbie turns back sharply.

'Come on,' again, he finds himself walking towards her, 'I just want to talk, give me a minute. Please.' He never got the chance to explain and apologise for not making it to their coffee date months back, he's wanted to so many times, but Abbie was always either nowhere to be found, or heading out of the precinct in a hurry when he laid his eyes on her.

Again, Abbie looks at the man with her, this time, as Luke watches her face, he sees that she's the one making an expression with her face. He can't read what she means either, and it doesn't sit well with him, because in the past, when himself and Abbie were seeing each other, he could more or less read her well.

Abbie steps right into the other man, crossing the barrier of private space between either of them. For the scariest second, Luke thinks she will kiss the weird man that's her shadow, because she tilts her head back to look up at him. She doesn't kiss him. Instead, she reaches her hand into one of the pockets of his coat. It seems normal at first, random, but when the tall man digs his hand in his pocket after hers, Luke starts to think. What does it mean? And why, does it look so natural for them, like it's reflex? Done without thinking.

'Under which conditions did you give me your phone this time?' the man asks Abbie. Luke strongly suspects that he's keeping her hand in his coat pocket.

'Oh come on,' Abbie sounds like she cannot believe her ears.

'I am very serious,' he tells her.

'Crane,' she calls, 'give me my phone. Please.' The 'please' is pronounced with mock, and Luke catches on that they are in some other place that only the two of them know of. It makes him want to fist the British man in the centre of his face. To be honest, Luke would've preferred it if they'd kissed before him, this kind of intimacy, he can't stand, it's too deeply mental and social that it scares him.

After some seconds, one hand (belonging to the man) comes from the pocket with the phone, 'Here you go,' he hands the phone into Abbie's other hand.

'You just couldn't let me take it out with the hand in your pocket?' She pulls her hand from his pocket.

'You requested that I give it to you,' he says with a coy smile, and Abbie rolls her eyes, the diminutive smile on her lips not going unnoticed by an irritated Luke.

'Go,' she says to the other man. He obeys, but not before giving her a quite ridiculous bow in the opinion of Luke. As he walks away, Abbie fiddles on her phone.

'So, you've got a minute...talk,' she says to Luke in her serious tone.

Irritation and jealousy (slightly huge) aside, Luke cannot believe his ears, Abbie is actually going to time him to speak with her.

'You're going to time me? Seriously Abbie?' Just seconds before she engaged in whatever strangely fazing intimacy with the strangest of all people, and now she wants to actually count the time she spends talking to him? Un-believable, just very unbelievable.

'Yes,' she doesn't stop going through her phone, 'and you've spent seconds already. Start talking Morales.'

'Abbie...' he doesn't know how next to express just how...how exactly he feels.

Abbie's head shoots up, 'Luke please,' she says in a tone that suggests she isn't being serious, 'Of course I'm not timing you. But you are wasting the little time I do have, so what is it?'

He wanted them to organise another date, and he'd show up to this one (Brooks or no Brooks), but really, he doesn't know what to say anymore. Not when she seems to want to spend all her time in the company of the disgusting man who never left her side. And especially not when he's witnessed just how much of a special relationship Abbie and that man apparently have.

'Let's do this another time, when you have time,' he creates an excuse. In truth, nothing else can be said to Abbie by him that will erase the image of the public display of affection he just endured.

**All the things that Luke likes about Abbie, yeah, that's just me, not him.**


	2. Chapter 2

Her sister promised that, her tall, intelligent sidekick would be here soon, but Jenny is having second thoughts about staying for dinner at all, not that she has anywhere to go (seeing as she lives with her sister), but still, the waiting is driving her crazily bored.

'How much longer?'Jenny gets up from the sofa for the tenth time in as many seconds. Abbie only rolls her eyes, not indulging her sister's impatience, because she's done it too many times in the past hour. In that time, Abbie hasn't changed her seating once; she has remained curled in the same position since she first sat. In all honesty, Jenny is starting to doubt whether he will actually show up. Since three and a half hours ago, when Abbie returned from the grocer, and they started preparing a dinner for four (Irving was positive he wouldn't make it, because of the workload he had, but he said that if he could, he would), Abbie kept telling her that both British guy and his wife were coming for dinner.

Why, Jenny had asked, because she really wasn't up to entertaining anyone. Abbie said something about making Katrina feel welcome in their lives, that even though she had Ichabod, she needed friends too, and since the two of them were Ichabod's friends...Jenny didn't like hearing all that, because it was nonsense, she didn't need any more friends than she had, and with the pending or not pending apocalypse, one couldn't be sure who to trust. But she'd given in, because it was Abbie's home after all.

'Abbie,' Jenny tries to flip Abbie's phone from her hands, but her sister gets a firm grip on it before it can escape.

'Jenny!' Abbie looks at her sister with a little impatience.

'When are they getting here? The food's getting cold anyway.' Jenny really tries to keep the whining from her voice, but she doesn't manage all that well.

'I have a microwave,' Abbie goes back to using her phone. When Jenny peeks to see what has her sister so interested, she finds out that Abbie is playing a complicated times five game of spider solitaire.

'Why are they late? I hate waiting. And why are you so calm about this?'

'Jenny sit down,' Abbie commands without looking at her, 'They'll be here.'

'When? Next year?' Jenny sinks back into her seat, crossing her arms angrily. Truly, if they don't show up in the next ten minutes, she'll leave.

'Abbie,' Jenny starts complaining after only a few minutes have passed with her in the sofa, 'I can't wait anymore, we've been waiting forever.'

'Gosh!' Abbie places her phone roughly next to her, while straightening her legs before her, 'Jenny, you're so annoying. You sound six. If you really don't want to wait, don't. Just go, maybe then you'll stop giving me a headache.' Abbie's not angry, Jenny knows she's not, but still, an annoyed Abbie isn't her dream sister, for that reason, she decides to keep quiet, only daring to mumble, 'I'll stay.'

'Then stop complaining,' Abbie advices her, 'and please get the door.'

'What?' Jenny frowns.

'They're here,' is all her sister says. Finally, Jenny thinks thankfully, the waiting really hasn't been good for her. Quickly, Jenny rises and rushes to the door. She of course, didn't hear any sign that they arrived, but she's just glad for a change in atmosphere, even if it's just for three seconds. Just as Abbie said, Jenny sees-through the blinds-Ichabod and his witchy wife (pretty too) standing on the steps into Abbie's home, she also sees a taxi driving away. Timing him exactly, she swings the door open before he can knock.

'Someone's early,' Jenny remarks, looking only at him, she doesn't much yet care for Katrina.

'Jenny,' he acknowledges, 'a pleasant evening to you.'

'Good evening Miss Mills,' Katrina offers a charming smile, which Jenny only half returns out of politeness.

'Hi, Katrina,' she greets Ichabod's wife, turning back to him, 'Why are you late?'

'I have a perfectly-'

'Tell that to my sister,' Jenny cuts him off.

'Oh dear,' his face falls, 'Is she quite angry?'

'Angry?' Jenny gestures with her hand for them to enter, 'She's seething. Good luck talking to her.' Jenny doesn't know why she's being untruthful, although she might not be entirely wrong, maybe under the calm is a raging something, Abbie is Abbie after all.

'Really?' his face changes, as he turns to his wife, 'Katrina, will you excuse me, my love?' He doesn't wait for an answer, he just dashes off to where Abbie is. Jenny briefly wonders what he's going to do, but then she realises that she shouldn't be wondering, she should be observing. Jenny rushes after him, Katrina completely forgotten.

She's not all that surprised to find that Abbie is still in the same spot, and her phone is in her hands once again, what surprises her, is how Ichabod has chosen to sit. Where he's chosen to sit, in truth.

'Do you want to tell me why you're late?' Abbie asks him, not looking up from her phone.

Of all the places he could've sat, and with the especially great space on the sofa, Ichabod has chosen to squeeze himself on the side of Abbie that was barely enough for a toddler when Jenny left earlier. She imagines Abbie has moved just enough to accommodate him, because they are too close, probably every part of theirs is touching.

'There is a reason for my tardiness,' he begins. Jenny notices how his head is positioned, how he's looking at her. Something makes her feel like she's intruding on a private moment. There's absolutely nothing private about it, but still...

'Are you going to say it?' Abbie asks him. This time she puts her phone on her lap, facing him.

'What?' she asks again, when he only continues to look at her. Jenny has come to learn that the pretend-annoyed tone Abbie uses with Ichabod, is really one of affection, because Jenny knows Abbie likes having him around to pester her. Or at least that's the impression she gets.

'Abbie,' is all he says to her, and they look at each other.

'Crane,' Abbie starts, 'you were supposed to be here centuries ago. You will tell me why you're late, and where is Katrina by the way? Did you leave your wife behind?'

'I shall tell you,' he smiles a most amused smile, 'and no, I arrived with Katrina, I did not leave her at home.'

'Talk. Now.' Her words are orders.

'Well...' he starts, pausing for only he knows what.

'Do you want me to punch you?' Abbie asks.

'No,' he scowls, 'That will not be necessary-'

The rest of that sentence, Jenny doesn't hear, because she feels movement behind her. Only then does she remember that Katrina had been somewhere in the house. She turns to find Ichabod's wife looking over at her husband and Abbie.

'Katrina!' Jenny cannot rid herself the feeling of being caught, but on her sister's behalf. If she, Jenny, could conclude that Abbie and Ichabod are being pretty intimate without trying, Katrina may very well be thinking the same thing.

'She's not truly upset with him, is she?' Katrina asks without taking her eyes off the pair. To Jenny, it sounds like recognition of what is happening. The intimacy going on between the two people on the sofa, how comfortable and familiar they are with each other, as though they are connected by an invisible thread.

'Maybe not,' Jenny shrugs, making it seem unimportant, when she's actually trying to dodge out of this conversation. She doesn't want Katrina to start pointing out how cosy Ichabod and Abbie are, because she'd be forced to agree.


	3. Chapter 3

As a little girl, running around in her childhood home, Katrina always loved the rain. She liked how terribly good the thunder sounded like two great drums coming together, and the way lightning lit up the sky with its stylish strikes. A lot of the people thought her to be insane, because the only good thing about the rain was the greenery that came after it. She never minded what the people said, she continued to love the rain anyway, into her days as a young lady, and after that. She's always loved the rain, looking out through the window, and seeing it pour down. It never gets old, and even through a heavy storm, she'd stare into the thick grey, her heart jumping in response to the sound and smell of the rain.

Today particularly, she is certain the rain that is about to fall, will be one filled with the promises of new beginnings and great things ahead. Somewhere in her bones, she can feel that the rain will be light, yet powerful, not many of those come around often. She prepares herself at the window of the cabin, pushing the curtain to one side, so that she is ready when the rain begins to fall. At times, the rain would start slowly, then build up from there, but at others, it just outright began pouring at once. She doesn't want to miss the beginning of the rain, for this reason she's standing at the window. Almost immediately, the rain starts to patter on the roof, Katrina can't help her heart swelling in joy. This is truly one of the most beautiful things in the world, and if she didn't love her husband dearly, rain would be her first love.

Because it hasn't begun to pour yet, she sees the car of Abigail Mills driving to the home Katrina shares with her beloved husband. She smiles fondly thinking she would in a matter of no time be with her husband as it rains. Katrina watches the car coming to a halt, but now the rain has begun picking up, splashing harder against the roof, and the raindrops are getting heavier, she can see through the window. If it continues this way, Ichabod and Abigail would not make it into the cabin without getting wet. Again, Katrina smiles inwardly at the thought of Ichabod shivering from the rain, while making some complaint against something. Oh dear Ichabod, Katrina thinks with all her love, he makes her so happy...

Katrina concentrates to see Abigail and her husband, how they will make it through the fast falling rain. Each door on its side of the car opens, as though it were planned that they open at the same time. Together, Abigail and Ichabod step out of the car, closing (firmly, by the looks of it) the doors quickly. Ichabod runs around to the other side, and as he holds out his hand for Abigail, Katrina loves him all the more for being such a gentleman, even in harsh conditions. At first Abigail looks to be refusing, but she gives in, placing her hand into his, and they break into a run to the cabin. Katrina's eyes follow them, until she realises that she should probably open the door for them. She goes to do just that, but suddenly, she's overcome by the will to watch them running silly in the rain. As though wiping something away, Katrina waves a hand before the door. A clear glass-like shape appears on the door, exactly in her line of vision, she brings her face forward to the 'opening'. Through it, she sees what she expected, Ichabod and Abbie running (blindly it seems) in the rain. It's only out of sympathy that she doesn't burst out laughing at what she's seeing. Abbie being pulled along by the hand of Ichabod, and both of them nearly falling when Ichabod's step falters. It's quite the scene to look at, and if the rain weren't falling in heavy drops (but still light enough for her to see what is happening), she would go out to meet them in the rain. Soon enough, they make it on to the porch, and Katrina gets ready to open the door for them, but she stops.

Ichabod is taking off Abigail's jacket. With no help from her, he's pushing it down her shoulders, down her arms, until his arms go around her to collect the jacket into his hands. It should be nothing, Katrina should consider it a gentleman-y thing of her ever polite husband to do, but all she sees, is intimacy. It's acutely cutting how intimate Ichabod and Abigail are being. Perhaps in this era, things such as these are considered normal, done without thinking, but she knows her husband, she knows he holds respect and privacy very dearly to his heart. What Katrina sees, is intimacy of the worst kind-for her-because if two people can be intimate in that way without having a relationship of the romantic kind, then truly, they have a far greater and deeper relationship than anyone would imagine. And much worse when they both turn back to the rain, and watch it side by side.

Katrina tries to look away, to return to her post at the window so as not to see them anymore, only, her heart dictates that she does what she came to do. She opens the door after clearing her glass away. Ichabod is the first to turn around.

'Oh, Katrina,' he says, his voice happy, 'we are watching the rain. Come join us?' He holds out a hand for her. Abigail turns around too, offering a welcoming smile.

'You are both soaking,' she refuses his hand by shaking her head, 'come inside, and dry up.' Katrina turns and leaves. All she wants is for them to stop being intimate in an unnerving way. Watching the rain with them, really? Is he trying to break her into shatters?


	4. Chapter 4

**Wow, so many reviews! For me that is. A certain review made me feel totally worthless, and terrible, because the person said the story sucked, and I wrote like a child in grade 5, and another said that my grammar was bad, and so was my English, and that my attempt was okay, but the story was not that good anyway. Those reviews really want straight to the heart, and they spread to the liver and kidneys, and the next thing I knew, I was bleeding to death. I felt really terrible for a while, until I read a good review. So thank you for the good reviews, I accept that I'm not a writing guru, [and no English isn't my native language, I'm proudly African] but you stuck with me anyway. So thank you much (I didn't forget the very, if that's what you were thinking). Thank you guys, and as a sign of my appreciation, here's one last one. For all your good reviews. It's a little different from the others, 26Chapters wanted me to post this, she kept pestering me for years (part of all the Sleepy Hollow fics I refuse to share), so I'm doing it now. Thank you guys again.**

**Anyway, I like this fic, which usually means you guys probably won't, because I didn't get it out as it was in my head. It always happens that way, when I like a piece, no one else does. It's weird.**

**A little background: Ichabod was in the cabin with Katrina, but Katrina was somewhere else in the cabin. Ichabod has a petrifying mirror moment (remember episode 10?), and shies away into a corner. Katrina finds him, tries to get him to talk, he doesn't. So she calls Abbie.**

'Where is he?'

He feels a rush, and then a pause. His heart is beating again. At last, the voice he's been waiting to hear has reached his ears. In the darkness of his corner, a spiritual light starts shining, and finally he can breathe.

A hushed voice reaches his ears too, he already knows who it belongs to, his wife. He expects that Katrina is telling her about him, narrating all that has happened tonight.

The next moment, he hears nothing. No voices, no movements, not anything. This new silence frightens him, he's afraid again, his heart closing up once more. It cannot be that he summoned her from his mind, and made her real; the cadence of her voice was too here and now, too present.

Another moment of silence passes.

It's true then, his mental capabilities formulated a possibility in which he wasn't alone, feeling helpless and drowning in fear. But oh, how he wishes it wasn't so...

'Crane?' It's her voice again.

He dares to look up, because he's contending with himself about the truth. Did he create her voice, or is she actually present? And there she is, for the first time ever, towering over him, even though from his angle she resembles a teenager in built and height.

'You've chosen a cosy spot,' she says.

Ah! Sarcasm. Already she's lightening his mood without trying. What would he do in a world without her? The answer to that has been answered by the time he's been in the dark corner, he remembers. It's impossible to think of his life without her in indefinite terms, so much so that looking at her is too much for him.

'So...' she pulls the word, 'what are you doing down there? Reflecting? Relaxing? Hiding?'

Clever, he smiles within himself, she's using jesting as a means to make him more comfortable. The way she says the word 'hiding' is a giveaway. All she's trying to do is remind him that he's human, no matter what.

'Because if you're hiding, I suggest you find a space more confined next time,' she tells him when he doesn't answer her, 'Because this place's waaaay too obvious.'

Who can resist allowing trust to surface when friendship is bartered for it? Still, he answers her nothing, his hands only opening and closing for every word he wants to say to her.

'Crane, if you're going to make me sit on this cold hard floor, you're going to have to talk to me.' Her figure stoops down to the floor.

Cross-legged-just as he is-in front of him, he doesn't fight the need to look at her, into her eyes. Before the delicate thankful -albeit small- smile reaches her lips, he sees it in her eyes. Nothing else can warm him than knowing that she, unlike everyone else (Katrina), will not subject him to the torture of recounting the incident. Whatever is to come out of this, he knows it will be out of his own will, and for the benefit of them both.

'Listen, I know you don't want to talk about it, and I wouldn't either,' she pauses there for a moment, probably selecting the words to say next.

'But Crane, it's Abbie,' she slants her head as though to look at him from under his chin, 'It's just me. Whatever you can't tell Katrina, you can tell me.'

That's just the thing, he can't tell Katrina, but he can tell her. He doesn't even want to tell his wife, because she won't understand, not the way Abbie will. Katrina is perfect, her perfection frightens him too much since meeting Abbie. In Abbie, he's found greatly flawed perfection, a quality he can be comfortable with, with no effort, because he is imperfect as well.

'I do not want to tell her.' The words from his mouth surprise him, not her. He didn't think he would speak just yet.

'I know,' she says quietly, 'I know you don't want to worry her, and she'll worry about you...believe me, I know. I've had mirror incidents too remember? It takes a lot from you, so yes Crane, I get why you don't want to tell Katrina.'

She's mistaken, for this reason he wills himself to look at her again. She hasn't understood what he said.

'Abbie,' he sounds out, 'I don't want to tell Katrina.'

Not because she'll worry, not for any other reason related to his or Katrina's fear, he simply does not want Katrina to be the one he tells the burden he has acquired. The explanation as to why it is so, isn't one he knows, not at this particular time.

'Oh!' She understands, now she understands what he means. He could always read her, something that gives him great pleasure to know.

'Oh,' she repeats a little softer than before, 'Uh...okay, uh, just tell me then. I mean, Moloch is kind of living in my house now so...' she shrugs her sentence away.

This time, he doesn't only smile inwardly, he chortles. Trust Abbie to make fun of a serious situation. But in all fairness, it must be her stylemark for keeping her sanity in such horrific times.

'Come on Crane,' her voice teases lightly, 'you made me sit here, you have got to tell me something. What are you afraid of? Nothing can scare me anymore, you know that.'

'I'm not afraid for you,' he tells her.

It's the truth. In no possible world, would he worry about her ability to handle anything.

'You get that we're partners right? You and I? So whatever you go through, I go through. I'm here for you. Always.'

That is it. Oddly, he doesn't need more assurances; not more urging, no more pleading, the words she's spoken, have delivered him, they've brought him life, and new strength to face their demons. He's sure that had he spoken to Katrina, his nerves would've taken over completely.

'Thank you,' he says.

No, he's not over the encounter he had with Moloch, he's not over what Moloch revealed to him, but Abbie is with him. That is all. She came when he wanted and needed her.

'Sure,' her attempt at making it sound light, as though it's nothing, earns her more respect in his books.

'How about we get off this floor and go for some burgers?' She gets up, and dusts herself off, holding out a hand for him. She's not abandoning talking about Moloch, there's a sort of code between them, they shouldn't push each other to do something. And he knows, that she knows that eventually he will tell her without her enquiring.

'How about decent food?' It's not at all belittling to accept physical help from Abbie, he wouldn't accept help from a lady, but she is more than a lady. She's Abbie.

'Are you buying?' she pulls him up (a little effort on her part, a lot on his). He frowns in disapproval at the suggestion.

'So burgers it is then,' she announces, not bothering to keep the satisfaction from her voice or face.

**Did I warn that it wouldn't be like the other pieces? I probably should've...I'm sorry. For some reason when I read this, I realised that it might not be as I intended, that it might not even be that powerful to you. So I seriously have a problem with how Katrina says 'my love' all the time, it's like she's rubbing it in my face that she is married to Ichabod, and not Abbie. I love Katrina, I just ship Abbie, so for this fic, I wanted Abbie to be the one Ichabod wanted, the one who could say the right things to him without trying, the one who could help him. I meant for her to outrank Katrina just this once. And obviously, to Katrina it sucks that her husband would rather tell Abbie than her, but those two are like super telepathic with each other.**

**I hope that explains my fic. Sorry for the mistakes, if any.**

**Again, thank you for reading and all your other reviews. **


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